Page 2 of A Convenient Secret (Merged #3)

I give her a hug. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“How was it?” she asks, but turns away, distracted.

Oh, shit, I forgot I told my friends I’m breaking up with a boyfriend. An imaginary boyfriend. God, I hate to lie to them.

But when you’re twenty-five, single, and new in town, people feel the need to partner you up. So I made up a dude. Not the finest moment of my life, but who’s counting?

Who knew people would want to meet my fake boyfriend? So I had to dump him today.

I wish I could keep him around. He was a perfect decoy when I didn’t want to go somewhere. He was my perfect avoidance tactic. But unfortunately, there are too many secrets in my life already, and sprinkling them with this lie became too much.

Saar’s cat Coco dashes from under the console table and practically flies up the stairs.

“Thewe she is.” A little girl runs to the staircase, her ponytail bouncing.

“Zach, Zoya.” Saar pulls me with her, away from the entrance. “Why don’t we go make your burgers? Uncle Corm has a special sauce for you.”

“But we want to play with the kitten.” The girl frowns, already halfway up the stairs.

“ She wants to play with her.” A boy—with very similar features to the girl—puts his hands in his pockets with a bored expression.

And I realize who they are. I have never met these twins, but I’ve heard about them.

“Zoya, it’s Coco’s bedtime.” Saar looks at me, desperate.

Zoya looks up, and then shrugs and bounces down. “What secwet sauce?”

“It wouldn’t be a secret if she told you.” Her brother shakes his head. “Let’s go outside.”

They start toward the patio, but then Zoya stops. “Auntie Saaw, I wish we had a kitten.”

“Dad is allergic,” her brother growls .

“Can I come and play with Coco tomowow?” Zoya’s brown eyes widen, looking at Saar with expectation.

Saar goes white and glances at her beloved cat.

“Maybe Auntie can take you to the shelter where she volunteers, and you can help her with the kittens and puppies there,” I offer, hoping I didn’t overstep.

“That is a wonderful idea. I’ll talk to your dad about it.” Saar winks at me and mouths a thank you.

“Dope,” Zoya cheers, and runs off.

I watch the little girl disappear outside. Funny how I just met her but I feel a kinship toward her. “Those are Declan’s kids?”

“How do you know Declan?” Saar frowns, and for some outlandish reason, embarrassment warms my cheeks.

“From Celeste’s Christmas party.” I balance on one foot then another.

Celeste is our mutual friend, and half a year ago, her husband, Saar’s brother, organized their vow-renewal Christmas party.

I now realize I’m going to see all the people I met there. My pulse quickens, and my mouth goes dry.

“Oh, I forgot about that. Come get a drink. How was it?” Saar asks, leading me toward their patio.

How was what? Oh shit, she’s talking about my fake breakup .

“It was okay.” Will the lies never cease? “I’m more shaken about a fire alarm at work.”

“Oh no. Are you okay?”

I sigh. “I need a drink.”

Saar wraps her arm around me, and we step outside.

“Lils,” Cora calls as soon as she sees us.

I walk over to the makeshift bar in the corner and hug her. Cora is the first person in New York who showed me the kindness I didn’t deserve.

She owns a bistro and hired me with no experience. I lasted a few weeks, and that was probably several days longer than I should have done. I couldn’t figure out the coffee machine, or learn how to carry a tray without spilling everything.

Not something that was taught in my childhood home. I probably still owe Cora for the broken dishes. She let me take care of her social media to even out the score.

While she’s a decade older, we became friends. And she introduced me to Celeste and Saar. And they became my people. I didn’t believe I could trust anyone when I arrived here, but they proved me wrong.

“What are you drinking?” Cora asks.

“I’ll have a glass of white.”

“Coming right up,” Xander says and winks at me.

Alexander Stone is a partner in Merged. Saar’s husband, Cormac, leads the company. Her brother, Caleb, has an equal share.

Xander gets my drink from the hired bartender. “Cheers. You ladies got even prettier since Christmas.”

I giggle into my glass.

“Stone, Jesus, do those lines really work?” Cora laughs.

“I have money and looks, sweetheart; I don’t need lines,” he jokes.

“And he can get even more cringey,” Cora teases him.

They fall into some sort of ridiculous sparring match, and I look around the large stone patio.

Celeste, heavily pregnant, stretches on a lounger while Caleb dotes on her like he always does.

Cormac’s arms are wrapped around Saar, and he’s whispering something to her while her face lights up.

The twins are by their father, Declan, the fourth partner at Merged. He’s talking to Zoya, and there is a tiny smile on his face.

He’s wearing a light blue polo shirt and navy slacks. His dark hair is slightly longer on the top, styled back. He’s lean but muscular, with a trim waist, broad shoulders and strong legs.

And I should not be noticing these details about him .

His collar is open, and when he turns, I get a glimpse of his collarbone. Just a suggestion of a protruding bone and the dip around it. Who knew collarbones were sexy?

If it wasn’t for the usual scowl on his face, he would be handsome. Who am I kidding? He’s ridiculously attractive, even with that glower. Gorgeous.

The man has an aura of mystery around him. Like he doesn’t want the world to really see him. And when they try, he scares them away quickly with his arrogant scrutiny.

We have that in common. The need to repel attention, not the scowl. I have yet to learn how to be or look mean. I lean into smiles and giggles when faced with something I want to avoid.

I understand this intense need for privacy. I wonder what he’s hiding from. A person? A feeling? A danger?

“You’re not drinking, Lils.” Cora bumps her hip against mine, and the wine spills over my hand. “Oops, sorry.”

“Here you go.” Xander snatches some napkins and dabs my hand.

“Looks like I need to drink faster.” I laugh, and before I turn, so Declan is out of my sphere of vision, I glance at him one last time.

Our gazes collide before I whip around, my heart racing. Of course he was looking; I just spilled wine. People look when you do something klutzy.

And yet his attention, however brief or coincidental, makes me feel all hot.

I wish he wasn’t here. I never know how to behave around him. Not that I met him more than that one time.

I wish he didn’t belong to this circle. Not that he knows I even exist.

Which is a good thing, because if he tried to speak to me, I’d probably make a fool of myself.

And he might recognize my voice. Just like I’d recognize his anywhere.

His voice.